


Choice

by Mellie_Art



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Joker in Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellie_Art/pseuds/Mellie_Art
Summary: “You’re giving me a choice?” Bruce asked in disbelief.“Of course!” Joker said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’d be no fun if I had to force you."
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 21
Kudos: 179





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo…here I am reposting this fic _yet again_. Third time’s a charm, I guess. The brain worms struck hard a few months ago and this fic was one of the casualties, and all I can do is apologise to those who’ve already read it (and are probably sick of me and this story by now) and hope that this becoming _even more_ nsfw will be enough to be forgiven. 
> 
> Oh, and please, please check out [this stunning artwork by Kai!](https://twitter.com/clwnprinceokink/status/1269948547530514433?s=21) (ngl that artwork and their love of this fic is a big reason why this rewrite got done as quickly as it did)

Bruce knew, the moment he landed in front of the house, that something was off. 

Not a new feeling. He’d had it for months, starting when a spate of suspiciously helpful tips to the GCPD had begun and growing ever since. He’d voiced his concerns more than once but it always fell on deaf ears and it was frustrating, yes, infuriating, even, but, honestly? He couldn’t really blame them. The GCPD rarely, if ever, caught a break and, God help them, they were holding onto this one with both hands. Which left Bruce with no choice but to watch and wait for the moment it all fell apart.

A moment he couldn’t help feeling had arrived.

The house stood on the outskirts of Gotham’s suburbs. According to the latest tip, which had come directly to him (alarm bells ringing all the louder), top level members of Gotham’s newest gang were running their operations here. A claim Bruce doubted since the place didn’t look as though it’d been occupied for at least a decade. A suspicion confirmed as he stepped inside to find the place bare, no furniture, not even carpets, like it’d been gutted when the last owners left. 

It was  _ possible_, he supposed, that the gang members had recently moved on but the more he looked around, the more he was sure they’d never been here in the first place. The layer of dust on everything was far too thick. But he did a thorough sweep of the place all the same. He’d been sent here for a reason and wasn’t leaving until he found out what it was. 

When the ground floor turned up nothing, Bruce moved up to the next and it was here, as he stepped into the bathroom, that the house started to show promise. Unlike the other rooms, this one was clean - sort of. There was no dust, at least. But, looking at the objects scattered around the sink - makeup, perfume, hair products, all well known, expensive brands - they didn’t fit the profile of the people Bruce was looking for. 

So, who? 

His first thought was Selina, but the makeup and this sort of game weren’t her style, and a knot started to form in his stomach as another name came to mind. Bruce wanted to be wrong - he’d take one of those crazed “fans” who’d been coming out of the woodwork lately over  _ that _ \- but as he came to the last room in the house and saw the bright yellow sock hanging on the door knob, the knot only grew tighter.

Grip firm on the handle, braced for whatever he might find, Bruce entered the second bedroom...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing except for a wooden chair in the centre of the room and a table by the window. The frown etched itself deeper into his face. The set up was deliberate but before he could even begin to figure out why, the whine of old hinges made him turn to see a tall figure leaning against the wall, slowly pushing the door closed. The only light in the room was the dim amber streetlamp streaming in through the window, making it hard to distinguish any features, but Bruce didn’t need the light to know who it was.

Bruce forced his voice to stay neutral as something cold slithered along his spine. 

“What are you doing here, Joker?”

A giggle, and Joker stepped forward, voice an ugly mockery of innocence as he said, “Waiting for you.”

Bruce’s stance turned defensive, fists curling, and Joker immediately stepped back, hands held up in surrender.

“Ah-ah-ah, no fisticuffs if you please! I’ve put a lotta effort into this evening, which you’d see if you cared to _look_ , and I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

Joker gestured to himself with a dramatic sweep of his hand and Bruce pressed his lips into a thin straight line as he gave the clown a quick once-over. 

His eyes widened when he saw the black patent stiletto heels.

“Like them?” Joker asked, twisting his ankle to give Bruce a better view. “I should hope so. I got ‘em for you, after all, and they were  _ very _ expensive.”

Bruce ignored the comment and the laughter as his eyes continued moving up Joker’s body. In comparison to the shoes, the trench coat was his usual style, albeit black instead of his signature purple, but it was when Bruce reached Joker’s face that he saw the effort Joker had gone to. Green chin-length hair - it must’ve grown since his last stay at Arkham - tamed and styled into big, glossy curls, makeup even more immaculate than usual, which, combined with the soft lighting, left Joker resembling a kind of macabre Marilyn Monroe.

It took Bruce a while to realise he was staring.

“You like?” Joker asked, voice soft as he curled his lips into a smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed his ankles, looking far more elegant than he had any right to be.

“What do you want?” Bruce demanded, fists clenched even tighter as he ignored the way it'd gotten a little harder to breathe.

Joker turned his gaze sideways and pursed his lips as he rested a finger against his chin. “Oh, the usual. Death, destruction, chaos - and a pony!” 

He chuckled, before his hand returned to his pocket and he tilted his head, aiming for (and to Bruce’s dismay  _ succeeding_) coquettish. “Oh, and you. On that chair. Wearing _ these_.” 

There was a metallic rattle as Joker pulled an item from each pocket and his smile grew as Bruce’s whole body tensed again. It wasn’t a weapon dangling off the end of each index finger but it might as well have been, and Bruce’s pulse raced as he watched the handcuffs gently away from side to side.

“Why?”

Joker didn’t reply right away, his eyes burning into Bruce as his smile shrank just a little. 

“We’ve been doing this for a while, you and me,” he finally said, eyes dropping to the floor as he made his way over to the table. The sound of sharp heels clicking against the floorboards echoed throughout the room. “And it’s been fun ‘n’ all, but lately I can’t help feeling that we’ve gotten kinda stuck in some sort of rut.”

The handcuffs were placed on the table and Joker looked at Bruce again. 

“At least, I  _ thought _ we were...until our last little rendezvous.”

Bruce swallowed, knowing all too well what Joker was talking about. Their last meeting had resulted in one of their most brutal fights yet, until - 

Bruce pushed the memory away.

“Of course, you ruined it all by throwing me back into Arkham,” Joker continued. “But my spell in the loony bin did give me plenty of time to mull things over.” 

He looked down again and loosened the belt cinching his waist. “You see, it’s never been a secret how I feel about  _ you_.” Fingers wrapped in purple silk began to open the buttons of the coat. “I’ve made my sentiments very clear on numerous occasions.” Joker looked up and winked. “But, working out what’s going on in that batty little brain of yours has always been a challenge.” 

The buttons fell open at a steady pace and Bruce watched with more fascination than he should. 

“You’ve always been the stoic, no-nonsense type, letting those lovely fists of yours do all the talking, so you can imagine my surprise when, during our last fight, I closed my eyes, expecting another blissful right hook to the jaw, only to end up getting…” 

Joker paused for dramatic effect.

“A smooch?”

Bruce ducked his eyes away as the memory returned and his face grew hot. It’d been a mistake, an inexplicable spur-of-the-moment mistake that he swore would never happen again. He’d tried so desperately hard to forget but when news of the Joker’s latest escape reached him, it'd left him anxious for all the wrong reasons.

Joker took a step towards Bruce again, eyes never leaving his face. 

“Now, it’s really not fair for you to change the rules without telling me,” he chided with a wag of his finger.

He took another step forward.

“But never let it be said that I’m not a quick learner.”

Another step.

“And if you’re gonna change the rules…”

Joker stopped less than a foot away from Bruce, smirk still plastered across his face, the smokey black makeup making his eyes seem even brighter than usual. With a quick shrug of the shoulders, the coat slipped off, landing softly at Joker’s feet.

“Then so am I.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped. 

Joker stood before him dressed in a purple suit jacket and green silk shirt, both hanging open to reveal a body wrapped in a black lace bodice and matching panties and suspenders. Purple stockings covered his legs, finishing mid thigh, and with the flawless makeup and hair and those damned heels, it revealed a side of Joker Bruce had never let himself imagine. 

And he couldn’t look away. His pulse was hammering and his mouth was dry and his palms, still clenched at his sides, were burning up, and no matter how hard he tried he  _ couldn’t look away_. 

“Does Batsy like what he sees?” Joker asked, voice dropped to a whisper. There was barely any space left between them. “Methinks he does.”

Joker leaned forward and ran his tongue along Bruce’s jaw to his chin. Bruce jerked his head back, eyes wide with panic, and stepped away as he cleared his throat.

“What do you  _ want_?” he asked, hoping the desperation he felt didn’t show in his voice. 

“Already told you.”

“ _ Why_?” 

A perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. “Because I think you want this just as much as I do but you’re too afraid to ask.”

Bruce glowered and, instead of even bothering to deny it, spat out another question. “And if I refuse?”

Joker shrugged and smiled. “Nothing.”

There was a pause. “Nothing?”

“That’s right. You go out that door, we go our separate ways and pretend this never happened.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes again. “You’re lying. There’s a trick, there always is.”

The smile fell from Joker’s lips and he shook his head. “Nope, not this time. No tricks, no games. Just you, me, that chair and those handcuffs. A one-time offer that I am giving to you and you alone. All you have to do is take it.”

“You’re giving me a choice?” Bruce asked in disbelief. There was no way Joker would make it that easy.

“Of course!” Joker said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’d be no fun if I had to force you. I know you’ll give a much better - ahem -  _ performance _ if you’re enjoying yourself, too. I want our first time to be memorable for all the  _ right _ reasons.”

Joker waggled his eyebrows as Bruce stared, completely dumbstruck as the reality of what was happening crashed down on him. Batman was stood in the middle of a room, with the Joker dressed in lingerie, who wanted to handcuff him to a chair and - 

“How do I know you mean it?” Bruce asked, voice thankfully much steadier than he felt. “If I leave, you could do anything, hurt anyone out of spite.”

Joker’s expression became solemn and he nodded slowly. “I could,” he said before closing the space between them once again. 

He reached out and rested his fingers lightly on Bruce's wrists. And then with his - and Bruce’s - eyes following, tapped a slow path up to Bruce’s shoulders. 

“But I’d hope that, if Batman was ever going to take a leap of faith, it might be during the one time I dabble in a little honesty.”

Bruce didn’t even bother trying to question why he hadn’t pushed Joker away yet, his attention caught by the gentle, steady rhythm of those long fingers. And, as if bewitched by some spell, he found himself wondering if he could actually do it. Joker was offering himself on a plate, leaving the decision entirely in Bruce’s hands - or so he said. It could all be bullshit but Bruce also knew that if Joker had any kind of leverage he’d never hesitate to use it.

So...what if Bruce said yes? What if he let Joker cuff him to that chair and do whatever the hell it was he wanted? What then? How could he possibly defend it, go out each night and hold himself up as some protector of the city after doing God-knows-what with one of the city’s most dangerous criminals? He’d be a hypocrite...or, rather, an even bigger hypocrite than he already was. God, why did he  _ kiss him? _ Why the  _ fuck _ -

Bruce shook himself (mentally, not physically. He didn't dare move). He wanted to run, get as far away from this room and everything in it as possible so that he could think, so that he could  _ breathe, _ but - 

But whatever it was that’d led him to kiss the clown in the first place kept him rooted to the spot this time, too. 

Because there’d always been a part of him, for reasons he could never explain, that wondered what, if anything, laid beneath Joker’s endless claims of love and devotion. If, when Joker looked at him with those hooded eyes and let all those silly endearments spill out of his mouth, Batman wasn’t just the butt of some cruel joke _.  _ Bruce’d always been able to brush it off before, told himself it didn’t matter either way, but lately... 

Joker slid his hands up Bruce’s neck, thumbs slowly running backwards and forwards across his jaw. Their noses were close enough to touch and only precious inches kept their lips apart, and it made Bruce’s struggle that much harder.

“So, what’ll it be?” Joker asked, his soft, warm breath brushing against Bruce’s lips. “The door...or the chair?”

Bruce swallowed and closed his eyes. Stay or go. Door or chair. Go home alone or spend the night with a man looking far more - looking like  _ this_. Blood roared in his ears and his heart thudded wildly against his chest, but the fact that he still hadn’t moved said it all. 

Bruce slowly and deliberately moved backwards and sat himself down on the chair.

Joker’s entire face lit up like a child experiencing Christmas for the very first time and breathless giggles fell from his lips as he turned and grabbed the handcuffs. An impatient rummage through the pockets of his coat and Joker returned, placing something on the floor beside the chair before standing directly in front of Bruce. For a long, long moment he did nothing but stare, chewing his bottom lip as hunger burned in his eyes. Then with a quick shake of his head, Joker came back to himself and snapped the cuffs shut around Bruce’s wrists.

No going back now.

Kicking off his shoes, Joker straddled Bruce’s lap and held his shoulders, using them as leverage to slowly slide himself up Bruce’s thighs. His touch was uncharacteristically gentle as he held Bruce’s face in his hands and tilted it this way and that, like he was examining some priceless artefact. His eyes were glowing and Bruce couldn’t bear to let himself consider the fact that he was the one responsible.

“Hmm,” Joker purred. “All the things I could do to you.”

Bruce closed his eyes and tried to keep himself still as Joker’s tongue came out to taste him again. It continued the path it’d started before, moving slowly from Bruce’s chin, sliding over his lips and finishing at the tip of his nose.

“But where to begin?”

There was a pause, where Bruce thought his heart might burst out of his chest, and then Joker brought their lips together in the softest kiss. Bruce froze, mind whiting out as it remembered how that mouth felt against his, and all too soon - but not soon enough - their lips parted and Joker leaned back, something close to genuine concern lining his features.

“ _ Darling_,” he cooed in a voice so warm and syrupy that Bruce struggled against the impulse to lean in. “You need to relax.” 

He stroked circles into Bruce's exposed skin with his thumbs and there was just the smallest trace of disappointment in his sigh.

“Maybe...maybe it’s too soon. Maybe you’re not ready.” A pause and then quietly Joker asked, “Should I let you go?”

For a second, Bruce considered it. He could leave, run away and never look back. But seeing Joker like this, his weight more comfortable on Bruce’s lap than it should ever be, his jaw and lips still wet from Joker’s tongue, Bruce couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than shake his head. Now that he’d finally taken this step, he couldn’t imagine going back.

“Alright,” Joker said, and there was a slight hitch in his breath as he spoke. “We’ll take it slow.”

Joker leaned forward again and, this time, he made a show of sliding his tongue out between his teeth and pressing the tip against the spot where cowl met skin. It was gentle but to Bruce it felt like being struck by lightning and he closed his eyes again as Joker’s tongue moved slowly along the entire rim of the mask, finishing at his cheek. Down the hollow to the corner of Bruce’s lips, making two small, teasing circles before his tongue retreated to be replaced with a kiss. It was even softer than the last, no more than a peck, coming back twice, before his tongue came out yet again to trace the curve of Bruce's cupid’s bow.

Nerves on fire, Bruce didn’t hesitate to open his mouth and they finally came together in a kiss far more tender than he ever thought either of them capable of. Achingly slow but deep as their tongues met, the first sweep pulling a soft little sound from Joker that made Bruce move reflexively, until the cuffs reminded him that he couldn’t.

A giggle spilled into the kiss and Joker pulled back, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

“That’s more like -”

Joker didn’t get a chance to finish. Bruce dove forward and stole the next kiss, and Joker only hesitated for a moment before kissing back. Hungrily, desperately, the scratch of nails and Joker’s moans only making Bruce kiss harder, and, again, Bruce struggled against the cuffs, regretting ever putting them on, wanting to touch the body now pressed tight against him. But all he had was his mouth, and it seemed to be enough for now, and he kissed and he kissed and he swallowed every one of Joker’s moans, his own feelings coming out in a soft growl when Joker pulled away, catching Bruce’s lip between his teeth.

A breathless giggle and Joker brought their foreheads together. Fingers ran softly across Bruce’s lips, so tender, and Bruce opened his eyes, saw the lipstick smeared across Joker’s lips, his face flushed the palest pink and, in that moment, found him irresistible.

Humming, still tracing Bruce’s lips, Joker moved his arm from around Bruce’s neck and slid his hand slowly down the armoured body until he reached the belt. A quick drum of the fingers against the buckle and he continued down all the way to Bruce’s crotch.

“Darling,” Joker drawled, his voice low and husky. “Be an angel and tell me how this opens up.”

Bruce levelled his gaze at Joker. “If you uncuff me I could do it myself.”

Joker grinned and held Bruce’s jaw as he placed several quick kisses to Bruce’s mouth. 

“Patience, dear,” he sing-songed.

It’d been a long shot, Bruce knew that, so he didn’t fight it and gave Joker instructions, which was slow going when almost every word was interrupted with a kiss. Joker was insatiable now he’d gotten a real taste and Bruce didn’t have it in him to even pretend he didn’t feel it too, so lost in it, in fact, that he didn’t realise the small plate of armour was gone until he felt Joker’s hand cup him over his underwear.

Bruce gasped softly into Joker’s mouth and tried to hold back a moan as Joker started moving his hand, palming him as they kissed, teasing him until he was hard.

“ _ Oh,_” Joker giggled. “I think Daddy’s ready to come out and play!” 

To Bruce’s absolute frustration, Joker pulled his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, catching the tip of his middle finger with his teeth to pull off the glove. It joined the armour on the floor.

Cool, bare skin met Bruce’s cheek for the first time as fingers trailed along his jaw towards his mouth.

“My hands are cold,” Joker said with a pout. “Think you can warm ‘em up for me?”

Bruce opened his mouth without hesitation and let two cold, pale fingers slide in almost up to the knuckles and tightened his lips around them. He took his time, sucking, stroking each finger with his tongue until he saw Joker’s eyelids grow heavy and his pink-stained lips fall open. Joker’s smile was gone and his eyes burned openly with so much want and need and Bruce felt a surge of heat lick through him.

When the first two fingers slowly withdrew, Bruce moved his attention to the others until Joker was panting and snatched his hand away. They kissed just as desperately as before, the last of Bruce’s doubts and hesitation melting away, and when he felt warm, wet fingers slide into his underwear and close around his cock, he let his moan fall freely.

Joker tightened his grip just a little before moving his hand back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm, and Bruce let his head drop until it rested in the crook of Joker’s neck. He tried to breathe through it, keep himself under control but it felt so good, so much better than it should, and the heat that’d been simmering deep in his gut began to grow. Without thinking, he pressed his mouth to the soft skin of Joker’s neck, let his tongue taste, his teeth graze. Joker purred in approval and stroked faster, rocking his hips in time with his hand, urging Bruce to bite harder. He sank his teeth in deep and it was enough for Joker to momentarily break his rhythm but Bruce didn’t care. He bit again, and again, and Joker leaned into each one, dragging his nails down the back of the cowl, and Bruce -  _ god, _ he really, really wished he wasn’t cuffed to the chair. He wanted to touch and hold and pull the same noises out of Joker that were being coaxed out of him.

He rattled the cuffs again, gripped the arms of the chair tight and panted into Joker’s neck, and his hips started moving, too, and he was so close, just a few more strokes - 

Joker stopped.

“Wha-”

Joker pressed a finger to Bruce’s lips. “Shh, shh, shh,” he whispered. “Not yet, Darling, not yet.”

Another kiss and Joker slowly slid off Bruce’s lap to lower himself to his knees. Locking his eyes with Bruce, he reached into his inside jacket pocket...

A knife.  _ Shit_. 

Joker made a show of twisting it in his hand, letting the light catch its sharp edge and Bruce should have been terrified, so vulnerable and utterly at Joker’s mercy, but all Bruce felt was fire running through his veins, and he clenched his fists as he watched the blade come closer, as it sliced through the fabric, the blunt edge pressing against his cock briefly as it fell free. 

Bruce hissed and Joker’s eyes lifted again to meet his as something unspoken passed between them. And then Joker slowly ran his tongue along the entire length of Bruce’s cock and Bruce closed his eyes, sighed as Joker’s lips closed around the head before taking him in completely. 

If Joker’s hand had felt good, his mouth was  _ something else _ and when he felt a hand gently cup and tease his balls, Bruce’s mouth fell open with a moan. He jerked his hips, which Joker took as a sign to suck harder, and when teeth grazed along his shaft, it sent a shudder right the way through him.

A curse spilled out, soft and breathless, and the knife was still there in Joker’s hand, knocking softly against the Kevlar. Just a small twist in the wrong direction and things would be taking a very nasty turn, but that only turned Bruce on even more as Joker’s hot, wet mouth moved faster, as his hums vibrated against Bruce’s cock, as he moved his fingers along Bruce’s perineum to make him gasp and moan, until Bruce felt his body go tight in an explosion of heat and pleasure and he came hard into Joker’s mouth. 

Joker didn’t stop. He stretched the orgasm out for as long as he could, lapping up Bruce’s cum greedily and moaning with every mouthful, until he pushed Bruce to the point of oversensitivity where he had to beg Joker to stop.

His cock slowly slid out of Joker’s mouth and Joker placed a soft kiss to the shaft before climbing back onto Bruce’s lap. The kiss that followed was lazy, messy and Bruce could taste himself on Joker’s tongue but didn’t care. He liked the way Joker purred and pressed himself up against him, the way his ass was in the perfect position to brush against Bruce’s soft cock, the way he was starting to unravel without Bruce having to do anything more than kiss him.

He bit Joker’s lip, making him whine and Joker ran his hands over every part of Bruce he could reach, and they kissed and swallowed every sound they pulled from each other until Joker growled and finally pulled away. 

His eyes were feverish as they looked at Bruce and he ran his fingers through his hair, dishevelling the perfect curls as he licked his kiss-swollen lips. His breathing was erratic and Bruce wondered if he was about to combust.

Then, with the sudden grace of a cat, Joker leapt off and reached for one of the objects he’d placed on the floor. A bottle of lube. On Bruce’s lap again, the knife was tossed away, the other glove yanked off and Bruce’s throat went dry again as Joker spread the lube liberally over his fingers before dropping the bottle carelessly between them.

Their eyes met and Joker grinned, wiggling his fingers.

“My turn,” he said, before hooking his left arm around Bruce’s neck and tucking the other behind his back.

Joker lifted himself up and arched his back before sinking back down, and his eyes glazed over and he shuddered and…

Oh, that wasn’t fair. There was no way Bruce could be expected to just sit there while Joker finger fucked himself on his lap without being able to do a damn thing about it. He fought against the cuffs again, more determined than ever, ready to break the fucking chair if he had to, and his cock twitched as Joker pleasured himself, the little shit acting like he had no idea what he was doing to Bruce. 

It wasn’t until a soft crack of wood rang in the air that Joker paused.

“Something wrong, sweetie?” he asked, voice just a little unsteady.

“Uncuff me,” Bruce demanded, leaning in for an equally demanding kiss.

“And...and why would I wanna do that?”

Bruce replied in a voice that was all Batman. “Because I’ll make it worth your while.”

Joker froze completely and his eyes quickly regained focus, wide as they travelled all over Bruce’s face. Whatever was running through his head was a mystery but the voice seemed to work and Joker nodded, lifting himself up just enough to pull his fingers out before leaning over to pick the other item up off the floor. Bruce hoped to god it was a key.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Joker unlocked one cuff and kissed Bruce again, and Bruce curled his arm around Joker’s tiny waist as he waited for the second cuff to open. The moment it was, he held Joker tight and sent the pair of them to the floor, his hand cradling the back of Joker’s head to brace it for impact. It didn’t stop a rush of air leaving Joker’s lungs as his back slammed against the floorboards, not that he seemed to care, and neither did Bruce as he yanked down the lace panties and pushed his fingers inside Joker to continue what Joker started. 

Their mouths came together again, less kissing and more biting as Bruce worked him open. He wasn’t gentle, and Joker didn’t want him to be, clinging tight to the cape, moving his hips to drive Bruce’s fingers in deeper, sliding a hand between them to stroke Bruce until he was hard again. Then Joker lifted his head and sank his teeth into Bruce’s jaw, refusing to let go until Bruce pulled his hair hard enough to leave several green strands tangled around his fingers. 

Joker cackled and Bruce didn’t know which he wanted to do more, beat him or fuck him. Maybe both. But as Joker squeezed Bruce’s cock, running his tongue over the bite, the latter won out (Joker’s begging helped with that, too), and Bruce tore the panties off completely and thrust his cock inside Joker as hard as he could. 

“ _ Yes!_” Joker gasped, nails clawing down Bruce’s arms as he arched his back, as Bruce thrust into him over and over, to drill him into the floor the way both of them had wanted for far too long. The room filled with sounds of pleasure, the relentless slam of bodies against the floorboards, of nails against armour and snapping hips. Of Joker screaming Batman’s name as Bruce bit his neck so hard he tasted blood, the scream dying into silence as Bruce kissed him, letting Joker taste his own blood on his tongue, and finally wrapped his hand around that pale, leaking cock and stroked in time with his thrusts. 

Joker came, panting into Bruce’s mouth, his body squeezing tight around him. And that was all it took for Bruce to follow, to drive in one final time, as deep as he could, and spill everything he had inside him. 

It was indescribable and Bruce laid still for a long time after. Heart pounding, head ringing, utterly boneless. Underneath, he could feel Joker’s body trembling as fingers eventually came up to his cheek. And then there was laughter, soft at first, steadily growing until Joker snorted loudly and buried his face in the cape on Bruce’s shoulder. 

Soon enough, Bruce was laughing, too.

“I can’t...I can’t believe we did that!” Joker said between giggles, snorting again, bringing his hands up to cling onto Bruce.

Inwardly, Bruce felt just as unhinged but he managed to hold it together long enough to carefully pull out of Joker and roll onto his side. Joker rolled with him and even when the laughter subsided, didn’t let go, so Bruce did his best to make the pair of them comfortable on the floor and, for a while, embraced the silence of the room. 

He didn’t realise he’d closed his eyes until cold fingers traced his lips.

“I would love nothing more than to stay right here with you, darling,” Joker said, voice soft and unbearably warm. “But...well, the floor ain’t doing this back any favours, sweetie.”

Fair point.

Moving was easier said than done, especially with Joker in tow, and once they were on their feet, all Bruce had to do was reattach the panel to his suit and he was good to go. But Joker…

Bruce watched him fumble as he gathered his things, legs unsteady, the once-perfect curls now a wild green cloud on top of his head, lipstick nothing but a pink shimmer around his mouth.

_ I did that,  _ Bruce thought, and it sent the heat still simmering in his gut straight to his face. 

When he was finally wrapped in the confines of the long, black coat once again, Joker sauntered towards Bruce and slid his arm around his neck to pull him into a final kiss. Slow and deep and almost tender, Bruce wrapped his arms around Joker in return, allowing himself one final taste.

It was over far too soon and, as Joker pulled away, he stuffed something into Bruce’s hand. 

“A memento,” he said, winking at Bruce over his shoulder as he opened the door.

It wasn’t until the door closed that Bruce looked down to see the torn lace panties in his fist. Fighting a smile, he tucked them into the belt and then braced himself for the return to reality. It wasn’t until he was well on his way back to the cave that he started to wonder if Joker was responsible for  _ all _ of the tips that’d recently come the GCPD’s way. He’d have to ask next time they met. 

_Next time._

His stomach twisted at the thought. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling. 

**Author's Note:**

> The other chapters are in the process of being rewritten right now and I’ll post each as soon as it’s done :)


End file.
